


Sweater Weather

by GlowingArrowsInTheSky



Series: But the Earth Refused to Die [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grouptale, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Incest, Self-Harm, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8531563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingArrowsInTheSky/pseuds/GlowingArrowsInTheSky
Summary: Alex finds something out about their younger sibling and handles it as best they can.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! If you read my main fic for this series and have come back for more, I'm so glad you're still following these great kids! If this is the first you're reading of my grouptale AU then welcome and I hope this fic inspires you to read the main work of this series!! It would mean a lot to me! 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support!

“Are you sure you want to come, Frisk?” Robin asked as they tied Frisk’s red scarf around their youngest sibling’s neck; the two were crouched by the front door, getting ready to head off to a humans and monsters unification banquet. “I mean, these parties can get a bit dull even for me. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Frisk shook their head resolutely, confirming that they very much did want to go along. Robin smiled at that and stood up, glancing around for Toriel. They spied Alex sitting wearily at the bottom of the stairs and the two oldest siblings exchanged an amused yet tired look.

“Mom?” Robin called. “Are you ready to go? We have to leave now if we want to beat traffic.”

Toriel bustled into the main room, a bundle of nervous energy as she checked and double checked to make sure everything was just-so before stepping out the door. She looked like she was finally about to step out the door, when she started and whipped around and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Mom,” Alex laughed, standing up and going into the kitchen after her. They came out with an arm around Toriel’s shoulders and an easy grin on their face. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’re only gonna be gone for a few hours. I can hold down the fort until you get back.”

“Right, yes,” Toriel nodded, blushing a bit. “Of course you can, my child. I am just being silly.”

The four family members stood in still silence near the front door. Each other Toriel’s children glanced between each other and then at their mother who was still fidgeting, her eyes darting around as she attempted to do a discreet final check. Alex sighed and spread their arms wide.

“Go ahead,” they allowed.  

Toriel smiled and patted Alex’s cheek as she sped off to do one more round of the main floor. She came back around and gave a contented sigh, seeming finally at ease with the state she was leaving her children unattended in.

“Very well, I believe I am ready,” Toriel smiled. “Now, Alex dear, you remember that Bell is at their other home this evening?”

“Yes,” Alex nodded.

“And Hop and Twain are out with Mettaton and Papyrus?” Toriel prompted and Alex nodded. “They should be dropped off in the next couple of hours. Please, call me when they are home.”

“I will,” Alex smiled. “Now, you guys should get going before it gets dark-”

“Oh! But I should say goodbye to Laurel first,” Toriel said, making for the stairs.

“Mom, you said goodbye to them a half hour ago,” Alex spun Toriel around. “Remember? Back when you were _supposed_ to leave? Go, go, go!”

“Alright, alright,” Toriel laughed, planting a kiss on Alex’s cheek. “Hopefully we will not be long. You and Laurel have fun. And be good!”

“We will!” Alex insisted, finally getting Toriel out of the front door. Frisk went ahead and took Toriel’s hand.

“God, and you thought it was hard getting me to leave the Ruins,” Robin muttered to Alex as they straightened their own aqua scarf, flipping their long orange hair out behind them.

“Hey, bottom line is that you were convinced,” Alex said. “Mom left when she damn felt like it.”

“So true,” Robin sighed, watching Toriel help Frisk into the car. “Welp, we’d better not stall any longer. After all, what would these dinners be without the human ambassador?”

“Probably a lot more fun for you,” Alex joked.

“Hah!” Robin snorted, heading out the door. “See you in a bit! Bye!!”

“Bye!” Alex waved, shutting the door behind them and leaning against it with a sigh.

* * *

Laurel leaned their forehead against the cool glass of their bedroom window, watching as Toriel, Frisk, and Robin all piled into the car and sped off into the early evening sun. They really hadn’t wanted to go to the party, it would be boring and crowded and Laurel never knew what to say around people they were uncomfortable with - Hell, sometimes they didn’t know what to say to people they _were_ comfortable with. But however boring they found the prospect of a fancy banquet or however draining they found the idea of a night out with Papyrus and Mettaton, they couldn’t help but feel a little left out.

Turning away from the window, Laurel glanced around their bedroom. The sight of Bell’s empty bed on the other side of the room did little to quelch the loneliness creeping up in their chest. For a second, they considered calling Bell, but decided against it; they didn’t want to disturb their time with their other family.

 _Their real family._ A tiny voice nagged at them from the back of their head.

“Shut up,” Laurel muttered to themself, pressing a hand to the side of their head. Their own negative thoughts were their worst enemies when they were feeling like this, and sometimes talking out loud was the only way to get out of their head.

But still, they couldn’t fight the feelings of loneliness of being all by themself in their family’s big house. After so many years of close quarters in the Ruins, Laurel had gotten used to the security of having everyone right there for them whenever they needed. Sometimes they missed how things were. Especially on nights where they felt all alone.

 _Alex is still here._ They reminded themself gently.  

“Babysitter,” Laurel muttered under their breath. They’d convinced themself that the only reason Alex was there was because everyone else already had plans or was too young to watch after them.

Biting at their thumbnail, Laurel ran their free hand over their quilted bed cover and felt the stitches bump up under their fingertips. Their bed now was so much larger than the one they’d gotten used to in the underground and sometimes they felt like they were drowning in it. Too much space for them to know what to do with.  

Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, Laurel put their head between their knees and pressed at it from either side with their now-sweaty palms. They could feel their face had gotten warm and it was getting harder to take a breath without wanting to scream. They muttered soothing words to themself, an old habit they’d picked up back before they’d fallen down. They squeezed their eyes shut and tried to imagine themself in a closet or squeezed behind a couch or anywhere small and confined so they wouldn’t have to think about how much space there really was around them and how many places there were for the people they loved to go and all of the possibilities that could happen in a space this large. But they could feel themself getting overwhelmed; their heart was starting to pound and tears were starting to come to their eyes.

The crying was always what set it off. Every time Laurel felt themself tear up, they could hear old memories of voices telling them to stop being so sensitive. Other people had it worse. And, that was true, wasn’t it? There was absolutely no reason for Laurel to be crying right then. Nothing was really wrong. But the fact that that knowledge couldn’t stop them from feeling bad just made Laurel even more frustrated and they sprang up from their bed with a disgruntled groan.

Running a hand through their hair, they crossed to their desk and pulled open one of the drawers. It was the long middle drawer that people only ever used to cram random pieces of paper and odd bits of office supply into until it was too full to even open or have the energy to clean out. Laurel’s desk drawer was no different; but amidst all of the old homework assignments and funky paperclips was something Laurel kept in there specifically because they knew no one would even bother rooting through that mess to find it. Not that anyone would be looking for it. What was so striking about an old mint tin? Even if it were found, which was likely since they kept it right in the front of the drawer in case of nights like these; Laurel doubted anyone would find it so out of place that they would just have to look inside.

Of course, that was the thought process behind keeping their razor blades in an old mint tin in the first place. Laurel had learned a long time ago, before they’d fallen down, that when people found out you were cutting yourself, they tended to take it personally. Like it was a reflection on how you felt about them that you were hurting yourself. So, they’d decided it was best kept a secret. They didn’t even do it that often, they told themself, just when their emotions got out of hand. No reason to worry their loved ones over nothing, right?

Setting the tin down on their desk, Laurel began shrugging out of their sweater. No one had ever been suspicious of Laurel’s constant wearing of long-sleeved shirts and sweaters in the underground; since there was no weather and the atmosphere was naturally colder, no one seemed to think it odd at all. Alex raised more concern when they started insisting on wearing tank tops to “show off their muscles” when they got older.

Once their sweater was off, Laurel held the pale underside of their right forearm out for inspection. It was always on their nondominant arm. They’d tried a few times using their right hand, but always ended up cutting deeper and longer than they’d meant to. It was just more efficient for them to use their left hand.

Even so, the scars on their right arm were barely noticeable to the untrained eye. Laurel had heard once that people who didn’t cut deep enough were really just looking for attention. Another reason not to tell anyone.

Laurel reached out and flipped the tin lid open. They hadn’t always used razors. Back before they’d figured out how to get the blades out of shaving razors, Laurel had used scissors. That was far more painful in process and resulted in puffy scrapes that really only hurt for about an hour and then disappeared. Laurel preferred the all but painless glide of blades on their skin and then liked to have a cut that would hurt for a few days. Pressing on the tender, still healing shallow cuts grounded Laurel; it kept their head level when things seemed to be spinning out of control.

Picking up one of the blades in in their fingers, Laurel let out a shaky breath. It had been so long since they’d done it, and they felt a little sad to be breaking the streak. Biting their lip, they pressed the edge of the blade to their arm and dragged it across the fatter patch of skin near the elbow. They repeated the process a few more times, until they were looking at five streaks of red across their forearm. They could feel their breathing settling and told themself after just one more cut they would stop; after that, they would be fine.

They’d gotten so caught up in feeling lonely, Laurel forgot that they were not in fact alone in the house. Alex was still there with them, and they had a habit of forgetting to knock. As Laurel raised the blade to their arm again, the sound of their door rushing open made them jump.

Alex pushed into the room, eyes on a takeout menu in their hands. “Hey, Laurel, I was thinking since it’s just you and me for the night we could-”

Laurel felt their face drain of feeling as Alex looked up from the menu. Of course their gaze immediately went to the cuts on Laurel’s arm. In the shock of being interrupted, Laurel had dropped the razor in their hand; Alex glanced to the glinting steel on the carpet and then back up to their younger sibling.

Alex’s mouth gaped open and shut like they were a fish. They hardly had time to react themself before they noticed the panic filling Laurel’s eyes. And then Alex realized that how they felt wasn’t a priority right then, that their younger sibling needed their reassurance more than Alex needed theirs.

“Laurel…” Alex held one hand out to their sibling, trying to settle them with the motion. “It’s alr-”

But Laurel wasn’t listening. Taking to their heels, they bolted from the room and down the stairs. Alex’s reaction was a second delayed, and by the time they were headed downstairs Laurel was already swinging out the backdoor and running for the woods at the back of the house.

“Laurel, wait!” Alex called as they ran out the backdoor as well, stumbling over the cold mucky earth beneath their feet.

Laurel squeezed their eyes shut, forcing themself not to look back. Following the slick slip of wet leaves under their bare feet, Laurel bolted into the woods at the back of their yard. Pushing blindly against rough tree trunks, Laurel twisted themself in labyrinthine circles. Their lungs screamed in protest, but they couldn’t stop running. Fighting against aching muscles and a growing stitch in their side, Laurel kept moving.

Years of being second oldest to their siblings had made Alex almost a master at keeping an eye on their flitting younger family members. They weren’t quite at Robin’s level, but their skills served well enough to keep track of Laurel as they ran deeper into the forest. Laurel was surprisingly nimble, threading in and out around tree trunks like a hummingbird. Instead of trying to catch up with them while they were on an anxiety-fueled bolt, Alex kept on their tails and waited for them to slip up.

After a couple minutes of running, Laurel quite literally slipped up. Stumbling onto a particularly muddy stretch of ground, Laurel’s foot slid on the damp leaves blanketing the forest floor and sent them sprawling into the dirt. Their glasses knocked off their face and they were making a desperate scramble to retrieve them and get back on their feet when the impact hit.

Alex’s grabs were never gentle; try as they might, they were still clumsy with their own strength and didn’t know how to apply it at different levels for different targets. They grabbed Laurel by the sides and attempted to pick them up into their arms but Laurel was still in survival mode. Striking out like a frightened animal, Laurel dragged their nails down Alex’s cheek and kicked to be let down. The shock of being hit caused Alex to slacken their grip, and Laurel dropped to the ground again.

They hadn’t made it two feet before Alex’s arms came locking around their sides like vice grips, and Laurel found themself being tackled to the ground. The smell of damp soil gunked up their nostrils and swirled into their hair as they struggled against their older sibling.

“Stop! Laurel, it’s okay!” Alex pleaded as they hooked one arm around Laurel’s back, their palm locking Laurel’s wrists together. Their other arm wrapped around Laurel’s knees; leaving their sibling cradled in their arms like a toddler.

“Put me down,” Laurel whined, voice twisted up with anxiety as they struggled to be let go.

“No,” Alex said resolutely, turning back towards the house. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I am not letting you run away. Not with open cuts, no shoes, and no jacket in the middle of November.”

Laurel gave one last tug for freedom and then resigned themself to being carried back into the house. Despite the circumstances, being held so tightly made Laurel feel better; it helped make the size of the world seem more manageable. Biting their lip as hard as they could, Laurel tried to control their crying as the warm air of their home met their skin.

Alex carried them through the main floor and up the stairs, finally setting them down on the closed toilet seat. Laurel didn’t make a run for it again and just with their lip caught between their teeth, staring at their muddy feet on the pristine bathroom floor. Or at least, stared as best they could; it was right around then that Laurel realized their glasses weren’t on their face and they remembered losing them in the woods.

“I lost my glasses,” Laurel muttered miserably, clutching their bleeding arm to their chest.

“I’ll go look for them in a minute,” Alex said, voice uncharacteristically soft as they soaked a washcloth under the sink faucet. Lathering some soap onto the rag, Alex turned to their sibling and let out a deep breath. “Can I see, please?”

Laurel looked up, but they couldn’t make out Alex’s expression.

“I just want to clean those cuts and bandage them for you,” Alex said patiently, holding their hand out towards Laurel. “That’s all. I promise, I’m not mad.”

Reluctantly, Laurel stretched their right arm out and placed their wrist in Alex’s extended palm. Alex kept a gentle grip on Laurel’s arm as they kneeled down and started scrubbing gently at the collection of shallow cuts on their sibling’s arm.

“So,” Alex said as they cleaned. “Any idea what you want to order for dinner?”

“Huh!?” Laurel furrowed their eyebrows, their confusion jolting them right out of their embarrassment. “What do you...Aren’t you going to…?”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Alex repeated simply. Then, they seemed to catch Laurel’s confused and somewhat dejected expression and spoke up again. “Of course, if you _want_ to talk about it, I’m more than happy to listen.”

“No, I…” Laurel turned their gaze away. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Alex nodded, standing up and rinsing the washcloth off before using it to rinse away the suds on Laurel’s arm. Taking a clean washcloth from the basket, Alex began patting Laurel’s arm dry. Then, they opened the medicine cabinet and took out the antiseptic and bandages. Toriel kept every size and type of band-aid imaginable in the house, even though she could heal most minor cuts with her magic, she preferred to have them just to be on the safe side. Dotting the antiseptic along Laurel’s cuts, Alex peeled open the huge band-aid open and stuck it carefully over Laurel’s arm, smoothing it over for good measure.

“Alright,” Alex straightened out, standing back up to their full height. “I’m gonna go look for your glasses. Think you can get yourself cleaned up the rest of the way?”

“Y-Yeah,” Laurel nodded, still riddled with confusion as they watched Alex leave the bathroom and head downstairs.

Not knowing what else to do, Laurel did just what Alex had suggested and cleaned themself off the rest of the way. They shucked off their dirtied clothes and left them in a heap on the floor, making a mental note to try and wash them before Toriel got home. Turning the shower head on, Laurel cranked the heat up and stepped inside.

They emerged a few minutes later, free of mud and encased in a cloud of steam. Wrapping a towel around themself, they wandered back to their room. The house was quiet, so they figured that Alex was still out looking for their glasses. Glancing to the window, Laurel could see that it was quickly getting dark out and felt guilty that Alex had to look for their glasses in the woods.

Twisting their short hair up into their towel, Laurel picked out some fresh pajamas and put them on. It was still early, but they weren’t planning on going anywhere else but their bed for the night so they figured then was as good a time as any. They felt better with long sleeves on again, like they could begin to relax. As they stepped away from their dresser and towards their bed, they felt something cool and sharp under their foot. Moving their foot away, Laurel could just make out the silver glint of the razor they’d dropped when Alex had barged in.

Laurel bent down and picked the thin razor up, placing it back in the container with the others. Shutting the lid, they held the little mint tin in their hand and moved to sit on their bed. Pressing their back against the headboard, Laurel drew their knees up to their chest and pulled the towel off their head. Their damp hair unfurled around their face, choppy bangs flicking into their eyes without the shield of their glasses to protect them. They became aware of the sound of footsteps coming through the house and climbing the stairs, and they began to spin the tin between their fingers nervously as Alex stepped into the room.

“Found your glasses,” Alex said simply, holding out a little dark object to Laurel. “They were kind of dirty, but I cleaned them off.”

“Thanks,” Laurel murmured, slipping their glasses on and blinking as the world pulled back into focus. Taking a deep breath, Laurel looked down to their bedspread and held the tin out to Alex. “I suppose you’ll be wanting these?”

“Mints?” Alex raised an eyebrow as they took the container in their hands and opened it up to peer inside. They took in a sharp breath as they saw what was actually in the mint tin. “Oh.”

Laurel braced for an ultimatum, a guilt trip, a warning, anything. But all they heard was Alex sigh and felt them sit down next to them on their bed. Reaching out, Alex balanced the tin on Laurel’s knee and leaned back against the headboard with them.

Laurel eyed the tin painfully, thinking that this had to be some roundabout way of guilting them for what they’d done. But Alex wasn’t saying anything. In a way, that was worse than being yelled at. At least when they had gotten yelled at for hurting themself, they’d known how the other person felt. Alex’s thoughts were unreadable.

“Please, say something,” Laurel finally spoke up.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Alex asked, not in a way that was confrontational but in a way that was genuinely concerned about what Laurel needed to hear.

“Are you going to tell?” Laurel asked, voice going soft. “Mom, I mean. Are you going to tell Mom?”

“I would never tell anyone about this without your permission,” Alex said. “This is obviously something very private and telling Mom before you were ready for her to know would only make things worse, I feel. So, I’m not going to say anything to her. I just hope you will soon, so she can find you some help so you can start to get better.”

Laurel picked up the tin and gave it a rattle in Alex’s direction. “Why are you letting me keep these?”

“If you’re not ready to stop, me taking away those blades isn’t going to make you stop,” Alex shrugged. “I’m not gonna make you stop wearing long sleeves or check your arms every night or not let you near sharp implements ever again. Tell you what I am gonna do, though. I’m going to be here if you need to talk, or if you just need someone around to sit in silence with. And when you’re ready to tell other people, I’ll be right there with you if you want me there.”

Laurel looked down at the tin in their hands, vision blurring with tears that they tried to conceal. They let out a laugh mixed with a sob and wiped their nose on their sleeve. “Thanks, Alex.”

“No problem,” Alex smiled.

A comfortable silence settled for a moment, only to be interrupted by the sharp ring of the doorbell. Laurel startled, they weren’t ready for anyone to come home yet. It wasn’t even completely dark yet.

“Relax,” Alex said, standing up off the bed and heading for the door. “That’s just the pizza guy. I ordered while you were in the shower. That okay?”

“Yeah,” Laurel nodded, shoulders dropping in relief as Alex left the room to answer the door.

Standing up, Laurel turned the tin over in their hands as they moved closer to their desk. They looked between their desk and the waste basket next to it, contemplating where they should put the container of razors. A big part of them wanted to be ready to throw them away, to quit right then and never look back. But there was another part of them, smaller but more persistent, that knew they weren’t ready to quit completely yet. They were ready to take a step forward, but not to make the entire journey in one leap.

Turning to their desk drawer, the middle one full of novelty paperclips, Laurel pushed aside the accumulation of knick knacks and old papers so they could reach the back of the drawer. There, they stuffed the tin of blades in the far corner; way back where someone would have to really want to get to them in order to sift through all of the other junk in the drawer. The tin being way back there was decidedly less convenient for Laurel in the event of another night like this one; they would have to stop and consider if digging it out was really worth it, or if they should try something else first. Alex had helped them realize that the option of talking about what was bothering them didn’t have to feel guilty. And to Laurel, that was a big step forward.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is based pretty strongly on my own experiences with self-harm and how I would have liked someone to respond to me when I was thirteen and struggling with it. But please, if there's anything you feel should be corrected do not be afraid to let me know!


End file.
